We left Barcelona at 10 PM and 14 hours later were in Ibiza, one of the Catalan speaking Balearic Islands.  For a while she lived in the shadow of her larger sister Mallorca but has since become “the scene” for techno music clubs.  All aboard was at 10:30 to give those who wanted a chance to go clubbing.  Unfortunately, in this part of Spain dinner isn’t until 9:30 or 10 so the scene is just starting at all aboard time.  Suzi and I are not into techno so were in long before the electric hour but we think some of the crew may have caught the first part of the scene because the next morning the pepper shaker at our table was filled with unground peppercorns.  High spirits!

The town’s buildings are whitewashed to reflect the sun and cool the insides.  Outside it is best to have sunglasses.  Ibiza climbs a hill to a citadel built to defend against Ottoman and Moorish raiders.  We had no plans, just walk from the ship to the municipal water bus and take it across from the commercial port to the old town and its marina full of yachts. 

We walked around a little, including through the “hippie market” and settled under some shade umbrellas for ice cream.  Since we arrived at noon it was hot and getting hotter, so after sitting for a while we got back on the water bus and the ship.  I understand the wisdom of the local siesta custom and after my rest took a plunge into the aft pool.  After dinner Suzi and I watched the citadel light up for the night.

We were awakened at 7AM the next morning by an “all call” Captain’s announcement.  He followed up with a letter repeating what he said and a copy of a letter from the Spanish authorities.  I will let them speak for themselves.

There was, of course, all sorts of speculation the 13 people on the boat in distress, how much distress they were in, and why they were shooting off flairs.  I made a Google search for any news stories about the incident.  There were none.  Google AI said that this is a common procedure and usually does not make the news.   So, I’ll leave it at what you can read.

The delay meant that we arrived at Alicante at the height of noon.  And while I am not a mad dog or Englishman, I still set out in the noonday sun.  Our plan was to walk from where the port bus let us off near the beach to a tunnel.  The tunnel is 650 meters long and ends right under the Santa Barbara Citadel.  The good Saint is the patron of artillerymen, miners and all who work with explosives so approaching her citadel by a tunnel seems entirely appropriate.  At the end of the tunnel an elevator takes us to the citadel from where we would have commanding views and the chance to talk downhill through the old town.  I am a slow walker and by the time we got to the tunnel it was packed with people waiting to go up.  Just as we got there a woman came out and told us they were cutting off the line so the elevator could catch up.  We never got into the cooler tunnel.  But we will be back here next week and will get off the ship before the noonday sun and try again. 

We walked back along the corniche, with different tile designs.  I usually love board walk towns but this one was just too hot and the beach too crowded for my taste.  We briefly thought of stopping for a bite to eat and something to drink.  Vendors were grilling meat but I was just too hot, so we got back on bus.  We met another couple on the ship who said that when they were closed out of the elevator, they grabbed a tuk tuk (motorized rickshaw) and went to the top.  I said, “Good idea, we should have thought of that.”

“Well maybe it was a good idea, right now I don’t think so.”

I am learning the wisdom of the Spanish Siesta.